


Drawn and Quartered

by PinkGluestick



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accents, Adult Themes, Again, Bottom Connor, Connor is shy, Connor transforms into a pinup girl, Cowboys, Established Relationship Sort Of, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Gun Kink, Hank is feeding Connor’s kinks and fantasies, Hank is perfect and big and understanding, Hank would be too but his erection is forcing his brain to prioritize, Insecurities, JUST SMUT TOWN, M/M, No plot at all, Playing with Guns, Swearing, Top Hank, Trans Character, Trans Connor, Trans!Connor, Yee Haw, You know what im going to add Cringe to this list, as usual, beware of the guns thing, covers it better, guns are not loaded, i should be more worried about Connor’s kink in this, i wrote the tags after the summary, im sorry I told you all to read these but the guns have me worried, it’s probably cringe central, just kinky stupid times ahead, kinky language, kinky words, no hurt or harm, no violence, possible triggers, ridiculous themes, roleplaying, this is just pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 02:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGluestick/pseuds/PinkGluestick
Summary: There’s only two types of people this thing was made for, and that’s the 0.0001% and -.1% that’s into:A) Cowboy KinkB) GunsSo if you think you’d like to read trash literature about Connor kicking off his deviancy by getting addicted to western pornvids, and timidly taking it to the bedroom, here’s a little thing about that.Otherwise, avoid this like the plague. THIS IS NOT A WELL WRITTEN FICTION. READ THE TAGS, AND BE CAREFUL VIEWING.Thanks guys.





	Drawn and Quartered

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even have a gun kink
> 
> ALSO, I DID NOT READ THIS OVER ENOUGH TIMES. 
> 
> IT’S A ROLE OF THE DICE WHETHER THIS WAS READABLE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and my brain was more involved in something else I wrote the whole time this happened. But heeeyyy, if you just want some ridiculous smut...

WARNING READ THE TAGS  
POSSIBLE TRIGGERS

!WARNING! REALLY CHALLENGING TO READ WITHOUT SCARRING YOURSELF

I wasn’t going to put this on here cause it’s....wow in a Why way.  
But someone I like on twitter got their top surgery gofundme page reported and this is for them. I actually know that pain and I’ll forever have lost $500 up front on a surgery I’ll never get to have.

Hank’s not stupid. He’s not an imbecile if Connor happens to be weirder than most

Any attempt at sex that wouldn’t lead to Hank having some crazy existential crisis over the hot twink who liked to take a turn on his cock every other night didn’t happen often. Hank was almost always going to wonder at some point while opening Connor up like a present just how disappointing his performances must be. 

Connor doesn’t say much. 

He doesn’t moan and scream all the time like Hank thought he might- like partners before him did. He doesn’t claw at Hank’s back or spread his legs too wide. 

Hank has to ‘make’ all those things happen, and while Connor readily complies, its the lack of an initiative that scares Hank. 

He knows his ‘hold’ on Connor, fragile as it is, won’t last forever. While the other has expressed no interest in the suitors at the bar and the park or even the other androids at work, Hank still knows it’s coming.

Month 4 and sex is still something to be desired. 

Hank knows he should be grateful for what he gets out of this- the company of a cute face and a slick hole. And he is. Hank is grateful as fuck. Not to mention Connor’s been rooming in the spare bedroom, so late night ‘cravings’ are only a few steps away. 

It’s a sweet, setup and Hank really shouldn’t want more.

But he does.

He considered the idea of Connor simply not knowing how to handle sex. He’d admitted Hank was his first from the get-go. First kiss, first hand job, first time having sex. Obviously. Hank was even his first time getting a back rub. That wasn’t as significant, but Connor, being touch starved, felt the need to voice it. Hank was strangely turned on by the soft little admission (cue Connor’s first time doing doggy).

But with all the heavy stuff, there was always this sort of detachment. 

Hank had heard the noises in the spare bedroom at 12 am; He wasn’t deaf. 

Connor was capable of sexual wonders Hank’s often drunk, stupid brain at that time of night couldn’t begin to imagine.

The *thumping* sounds were desperate. Low, hoarse whimpers hung in the air. Don’t get him started on what he could only describe as the *frantic* whispering between the walls. Hank couldn’t make out a bit of it, but he knew dirty talk when he heard. It was in his soft tone of voice. 

Connor was going to town on himself in there, and boy did it get Hank stirring.

The kicker, though, was that it was always *after* sex. 

After Hank thought he’d given him the full ride where he’d fucked Connor like a rented whore (complete with grinding, eating him out, teasing him senseless, and smacking his ass around a good too many times) Connor still went and huddled himself up in the spare bedroom later to unleash a full on assault on himself. That’s what it sounded like, anyway.

So.....What the fuck was up with that?

Hank wasn’t that *bad*, he was pretty sure. 

After he’d convinced himself Connor wasn’t being an out of touch, awkward robot about the whole thing, Hank had to come to terms with: Yes. He was.

He was apparently *that* bad.

Connor gave him a blowjob during breakfast one morning when he’d snuck under the table that had Hank choking on his milk. It was at that exact moment with his cock head caught between pink lips that Hank decided this was the last time. 

The last time he was going to let some hot twink with a tight, plush, fine, fuckable ass (who didn’t know anything about fucking before Hank came along anyway) was going to show *him* up when it came to great sex!

Sure, Connor didn’t know anything about Hank’s feelings on the matter. 

It wasn’t like this had all been on purpose; some ploy to strut his feathers and flex on Hank’s sad, old attempts. 

Why would he stay around and actually have sex with him if he felt that way? 

Well, he wouldn’t. 

Connor had never been ingenuous with Hank, and he didn’t plan to be. That didn’t mean Hank wasn’t still determined to make tonight something different.

Tonight, Connor was going to scream and actually enjoy his relentless dicking.

Dammit...

Hank’s efforts did not go wasted. Connor’s enthusiasm, when Hank suggested 69, ran higher than Hank’s blood pressure. His excitement was to the point Hank worried he’d talked his game up a bit too much. He didn’t want to keep feeding Connor disappointments.

They’d never done the act together, but Connor was always the first one happy to try something new. His energy was straight up exhausting- once through Hank’s back out for an entire weekend.

And still, Hank was determined. He was *going* to make this something special no matter what. 

If slipping a thick, wet finger inside that precious little cunny and ass didn’t get Connor squealing, Hank had a Plan B that was not to be trifled with. If he had to, he’ would break out the *handcuffs*, and so help Connor’s cunny then.

First things first, though. 

Hank laid out the bed all nice with clean sheets and his thickest comforter. The pillows lined the head board invitingly in a layer of plush, save for one lying in the opposite direction. 

In case Connor needed a break from sucking.

He called Connor in right after dinner when the android liked to fuss over the dishes. He insisted a clean environment would help Hank’s mental state, and he wasn’t wrong. Hank was just a bit rocky about letting him do all his dirty work for him.

As per usual,!Connor came to Hank’s bedroom eagerly with hands freshly dried and wearing a chipper smile. Hank couldn’t wait to make those sweetly bowed lips form a little ‘o’. 

Connor immediately took notice of the bed, and Hank knew that *he* knew something was different. 

It wasn’t the soft blankets or the glow of a single lit candle that signaled something was special tonight-

It was Hank’s eyes. They bore right into Connor’s curious, doey gaze with such intensity. The kind that was rare and reserved for a job well done or completing a hard case.

Connor happily let himself fall prey to whatever Hank had in store for them as he watched those eyes glimmer devilishly under dull light. He on his back with his mouth stuffed on Hank’s tongue in mere seconds.

The older man ran a hand up his side, rubbing over his hip a few times when it came back down.

“I want to try something.” He murmured. 

He hovered over Connor, propped up on an arm so he could stare down at those wide, brown eyes. Connor’s pupils flashed white for the briefest second. Apparently he’d deemed Hank’s face worthy of photographing in that instant.

“Will you indulge me?”

Connor bit his bottom lip in that familiar way that made Hank’s chest tighten. An excited little smile forming, Connor simply nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak when Hank was setting up a scene for them. He could hardly stand the things that tried to come out of his throat when he got like this. When he got all *hot*.

Those things were.....dangerous.

Hank kissed below his ear; A subtle little nip of teeth that made Connor shiver and Hank beam. 

He was determined to have Connor wound tighter than a spring before the hour was over, and he wouldn’t settle for less. He knew teasing him to death would be the only way to see Connor buck wild and screaming.

But unfortunately for Hank’s expert plans, it wasn’t that simple. 

Putting aside his very limited resolve when it came to teasing, Hank was actually quite capable of making Connor a moaning mess *without* all the effort. His performance was not the issue here.

Connor didn’t like how....unwelcome...the things he wanted to say often were. He made it a point not to let those things out, no matter how heated he got. Hank really wouldn’t be happy to here them.

Hank being unaware of his was in for quite a surprise tonight.

Connor‘s little nod of approval pushed Hank to continue, and the smaller man immediately felt a pair of large, sturdy hands come to clamp over his hips. The only warning he received.

“Good.”

With that, Hank flipped them so Connor was on top and swatted his ass into position. Connor yelped, but immediately took his place. He knew the logistics of where they each needed to be, despite never doing this before, and eagerly complied with the will of the large hands guiding him.

“There we go, that’s it.” Hank straightened him around for little more reason then to harness some control. Connor responded beautifully, enticed by Hank’s move to dominate him in this small way.

“Good boy.” Hank purred, lining Connor so that his mouth was just above his cock. Connor’s shoulders shook at the praise.

From here Hank had a hell of a fucking view.

It was the picture of serenity. 

Pale skin and tiny freckles dotted the intimate flush and folds of Connor’s lips. They were completely smooth and pliable. If Hank sank his thumb inside a hole, the skin was going to part for him like flowing water- no matter how wound up Connor was, he was never going to be too tight to keep Hank’s fingers from slipping in. On the contrary, his body seemed to want to suck them inside any chance they got.

“Fuck.” Hank groaned when Connor tongued a wet stripe over the side of his cock. He was tasting it; he always did before they had sex. 

“Yeah...That’s it honey” Hank was delirious at only one lick in, but he remained determined. Tonight he was going to keep it together long enough to make Connor come screaming. 

He needed to stay focused, remember the goal.

His tongue came up and curved into the curtains of Connor’s sex. The brunette opened perfectly, pretty pink pussy eager to receive. 

Hank tried not to let it go to his head- either of them.

Connor startled, spit drooling onto Hank’s cock as his jaw refused to properly shut.

Hank’s tongue poked at the tip of his clit to tease him. Connor came away from his cock and pushed his forehead into a warm, thick thigh. He nuzzled the heavy sac between those strong legs and revered in Hank’s very personal scent. 

It was suddenly achingly hard to contain those noises that were bubbling inside him.

Hank ran a slippery little circle over the ticklish nub in his mouth. The flavor was more intoxicating than his favorite whiskey, although very subtle. Connor had a minute flavor of lavender, of all things, and Hank would wonder for the next million years why that was. 

Another tight circle was tongued around the dips of his folds, and the android finally failed to compose himself. He straightened up a bit, his lips near the crown of Hank’s throbbing cock. Anything but delicate, Connor slid back into Hank’s mouth.

It caught him by surprise, and Hank instantly began to feel overexcitement threaten his guts. This was going so much better than he thought it would, and possibly much faster. He didn’t think he’d get him to lose a layer of control this early.

Connor shifted and made a tiny noise- a whine. 

Hank’s cock jumped, and he quickly began spewing his praise.

“That’s it!” He managed between the thrusts of Connor’s hips.  
“Ride my face, honey.”

Connor’s body went rigid. The hand that had come to work on Hank’s dick felt a little too tight. 

The artificial muscles in his thighs tensed up, pushing a bit of slick from his sopping hole.

It was so slight, but Hank eventually recognized that Connor’s body was shaking. Shaking like he was holding on to something for dear life.

Connor choked something out and Hank knew what he was trying to hold on.

He was stifling a noise in his throat he very clearly wanted stifled. Something almost painful trying to surface from his chest that he was keeping to himself. 

Only, Hank had never gotten this close before. He fully intended to be selfish. 

Brain list addled and sluggish, Hank failed to categorize what he was getting close to, and didn’t think maybe pushing was a bad idea.

With such a delicious response the first time, Hank muttered something similarly vulgar again.

“Yeah, fuck! Ride me, baby!”

“Hnn-AAH!” Slipped out, much to Connor’s frustration. He wished his mouth came with a censoring component.

Hank’s mouth widened in shock, and for a moment he forgot his task was to keep stroking the flat part of his tongue in Connor’s clit.

The other rectified that by grinding, like Hank had coaxed him, right down on his face. A lovely show of the strangely mutual dom and sub roles they sometimes slipped into. Connor often enjoyed being obedient, and he looked so pretty when he was that Hank wished it extended outside the bedroom.

This wasn’t much different from their normal routines, save for Hank’s insistence to make Connor moan. This was nice, good sex, the kind Hank loved where there was just a bit of toughness to it, and everything was just dandy

-until it turned into an utter fucking ride. 

Literally.

Connor left Hank’s cock standing hard at attention in the cool bedroom air. Normally that was a feat in itself, considering his oral infatuation begged to keep his mouth full. He couldn’t help himself. Hank had left the gate open just a hair, just to nudge, and Connor had gone and busted right through it.

His hands planted on the lowest part of Hank’s belly as Connor sat back. There was nothing about what was happening here now that wasn’t just Connor riding Hank’s face like a seat. His hips moved forward and back. His arms steadied him, feeding extra force into each thrust.

Hank took it like he was a starving man. A half-scared, half-bewildered, a hundred percent turned on, starving man.

This wasn’t the verbal cues Hank had been looking for. This was a whole lot of everything *except* screams, cries, and pleas. That was all he’d honestly been shooting for, but this.... 

Connor’s mouth moved but no words came out. He ground his teeth desperately and ducked his head, but he did not moan. He didn’t cry out Hank’s name or scream for his release. 

Connor just wasn’t a screamer, and it had taken Hank 4 months of sex and 2 of preemptive heavy petting to figure that out. 

That’s all it was this whole time.

Hank was *sure* that’s what it was, because, there was nothing about this that even slightly suggested Connor wasn’t enjoying himself. He was enjoying *Hank*. Two bodies moving pleasurably together; this was good sex.

And proof. 

Connor was never ‘disappointed’ in Hank and his ‘performance’. This was something wild and passionate and Hank had read him *all* wrong. 

He’d read *them* all wrong.

Holy fuck. Connor was riding him like a race horse.

He gripped loosely to Connor’s thighs, not wishing to limit his movements. He was too far gone riding and bouncing to be contained regardless. 

Hank’s mouth worked the flushed pink lips sliding against him, scraping his beard outside the sensitive skin of those thighs. It was blissful. The way his tongue dipped in and out of his slicked up hole was divine.

Connor was rolling in pleasure.

What Hank had said, though...  
It was so much to think about.

There were so many implications.

So many of Connor’s fantasies.

So many feelings he had...

His eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the physical touch surrounding him.

He felt good. 

Tongue thick, hole stretched, clit sucked. 

He felt SO good.

Connor’s head lolled back, his throat threatening to open up and say those dreaded *things* he tried to hide. He didn’t want those things to come out. He wasn’t ready to say those things; those things that plagued him. 

For the briefest moment Connor’s hips stuttered too far forward and slipped from Hank’s chin. 

He found himself scrambling back in search of the hum of Hank’s mouth, and the man beneath him took the opportunity to stick a nice, filling finger exactly where it shouldn’t be stuck.

Hank growled.

“Bounce, baby.” His finger went deep to the knuckle.

“Ride ‘em.”

Connor’s throat finally opened and closed at the same time... choking him.

‘Ride ‘em’

‘Ride ‘em’ 

‘Ride ‘em’ 

“Damn, Connor...” Hank murmured in total awe. Connor was grinding against him, mostly his beard at this point, and breathing like he couldn’t keep his head above water.

In retrospect, it was both pretty senseless and tasteless when Hank told Connor to “Giddy up” as a joke, but the race horse thing had worked it’s way back into his brain. And who was thinking reasonably when their dick was engorged, anyway?

Hank didn’t actually hear Connor moan or cum all over his face and finger after that, although it happened.

Something about Connor, who’d never bothered to make a good moan or cry in any of their previous sessions, shouting for Hank to ‘Wrangle me‘ was sort of impossible for him to overlook.

They eventually came down, more specifically Connor came down. 

Hank was still drifting out of sync in this strange place of pleasure and surprise. It was a weird limbo to be in. 

On one hand, Connor’s perfect blowjob lips still left a pleasant ringing on Hank’s dick. That coupled with the 10 minutes of grinding on his face that had just took place was enough sexual bombardment to make Hank giddy. 

And then, on the other hand.... Connor had just shouted for Hank to ‘Wrangle me, sir’.

So now he was laying there feeling pretty fucking great and shocked out of his gourd- an unpleasantly, pleasant mixture.

Out of all the things he thought he’d wrench out of Connor’s mouth one day, that wasn’t it.

Connor caught his synthetic breath, the fans in his stomach and chest on full blast. The thirium in his veins was pulsing and turning with the beat of his pump. He ran a hand over his throat, down to his collar, and over his regulator. It thrummed under his fingertips. His whole body was thrumming. A feeling of pleasure and power he’d never experienced before was bleeding fire into every circuit.

The hand he had put on himself where a human’s heart would lie didn’t do anything to still the chaotic beating in his chassis. It did help to calm the mental overload some.

Then he heard laughter, the soft kind like someone who was straining not to make it.

Connor felt his stomach churn and slowly turned to look over his shoulder. 

Hank was still underneath him with his hair in a fair colored halo, spread across the pillows. Blue eyes piercing and full of mirth made him look like an absolute predator and Connor a meager snack. He literally had been in you considered what they’d just done, but this had turned into something else entirely.

“Are we a couple of rowdy, rough cowboys now, Con?” His voice broke, but how was he supposed to keep it one piece after that?

His favorite thing about sex with Connor had to be how 0 to 100 it could get. There was no telling what the hell he’d be sliding up to in bed for a few hours until it was literally staring at (or riding) his face.

He laughed at the thought- the thought of being cowboys. At Connor’s offhanded comment towards and his sudden leap into crazy. Not crazy exactly- just a bit quirky. It was....kind of cute, actually.

“That make you shoot your load there, Tex?” Hank threw one of Connor’s ridiculous winks back at him. 

He seemed to think he was funnier than he probably was, but the laughter kept bubbling out of him.

Connor did not laugh. 

It took half a minute for Hank to realize the android was just grimacing to himself rather painfully.

Connor had turned hot all over; Hank could feel the heat radiating from above him. His eyes flickered up towards Connor’s already searing hole in pure instinct.

He wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box when it came to bedroom etiquette but there was just no denying what Connor’s face meant. Hank messed up.

Which he hadn’t seen coming by a long shot. Hank didn’t know where he’d messed up exactly. He didn’t know the extent of it or how much Connor could be hurt.

Hank was still pretty worked up about the fact that he’d gotten such a hard reaction or of him (FINALLY). Now, this had somehow fucking escalated.

“Hey, uh, Con-“

“N-no. That’s.... no, Hank.” 

Hank had heard Connor ‘nervous laugh’ precisely once in a liquor laden dream one time. He vaguely remembered it, but it was the same night he’d broken into Hank’s window and came face to face with Sumo for the first time. That was impossible as Connor hadn’t been deviant then, but it sounded just like Hank had imagined it. 

This nervous, scared little laugh.

“That’s....idiotic.” The word felt foreign coming from Connor, and suggested it was some sort of social protocol he’d just dug up. Only it wasn’t very successful, and it was something only a guilty doofus would say- which Hank knew a thing or twenty about sounding like a guilty doofus. He’d made plenty of his own poor excuses.

Why was Connor being so defensive? Did this bother him that much?

“Shit...” Hank mumbled, staring up at a pair of dodgy brown eyes. They couldn’t seem to settle on Hank. He hadn’t even noticed when Connor‘d gotten off of him. 

He was sitting with his legs pulled under him, his knees pushed together and arms crossing over his stomach. His core was essentially covered from view.

That was a weird thought. Connor was not shy and he didn’t like to be anything less than an absolute show. Especially when they were naked. Hank had never had to charm Connor out of his pants- which had proved wild, hysterical, and panic inducing the first time they hit the sack. 

Now Hank felt dirty staring at him as Connor tried to hide himself.

Silence filled every corner of the room for far longer than Hank should have allowed. He was wasting too much time trying to decide if he’d just ruined Connor’s high, or if this was even something worth worrying about. 

Was *he* the one making a big deal?

Connor was crawling his way off the bed, legs first and pulling on his boxers when Hank decided that this was definitely a problem.

“Hey, wait a minute-“

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant.” Connor said quickly, voice snapping back to normal.

“I fully intend to bring you to orgasm. I just had to get comfortable first.”

Comfortable meant getting dressed? Since when? 

Fuck did Connor totally lose it for him just now? 

They were still a thing (-ish), right?

“Why are you getting dressed?” Hank sat up from his elbows and started moving down the bed. Connor was a good three feet away from it.

“Like I said, just to get comfortable. I promise it won’t ruin our fun.” He winked, soft little smile back in place

“Come over here.” He pat the edge of the bed. A clear indication Hank was in for the rest of that blowjob treat- although treat was an understatement. That little number Connor did with his mouth on the top of Hank’s balls was worthy of making history. 

But Hank wasn’t interested in that right now. Well, he was. But he was also worried.

”Why don’t *you* come here, and tell me what the hell all that was about.” Hank pat the same spot on the bed.

“Nothing, Lieutenant.”

“Con, you’ve got a bad habit about denying things.”

The android looked genuinely surprised about that, so either he was lying or he’d actually believed he was in the right about this.

“First deviancy, then your feelings, which you’re *allowed* to have by the way-“

“Well...”

“Then shirt size of ALL things, and now this. You’ve got a problem about opening up, especially with yourself. I’ve got my own problem, but denial ain’t one of them.”

“That’s debatable. And just what do you think this is?” This being whatever problem had just ruined their night.

“I don’t know!” Hank waved his hands between them.  
“That’s why I’m asking!”

“This is all rich coming from you.” Connor muttered. He actually meant to say it was ironic, something less spiteful, but he let his irritation get the better of him. 

Hank stared at him a moment, setting his jaw straight as he watched Connor’s face. He ran a hand in his hair to calm himself. This was the single worst time for things to get heated.

“Fair enough.”

Connor’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Fine, I won’t press. I just want you to know that *I* know something’s up.”

That actually went without saying, but he wanted Connor to hear it. 

All too often they avoided things by leaving what was very obvious unspoken. It changed everything once it was said, and that’s what this was like now.

“Something’s got you bothered and I just-“ Hank looked down at his flaccid cock, then at Connor in his boxers and dress shirt, chewing his lip. 

“I’m sorry.” Hank sighed.  
“I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“You didn’t.” Connor said, like he hadn’t heard a word.

Hank sighed, not so interested in finishing anymore.

“Whatever. Let’s call it a night.”

The android jerked forward and froze. He was torn between pursuing Hank’s untouched cock or leaving things where he was asking them to.

He hated, HATED the idea of Hank left unsatisfied. Connor had enough issues with proving to be useful in Hank’s house. No amount of dish washing or dog walking or sweeping would thank Hank properly for letting him use his room and hot water. Even when he’d finally gathered a paycheck, Hank refused for him to pay, and Connor remained a total mooch. He hated how little he could do for him, this human who seemed his opposite in nearly every way. He wasn’t like a single other person Connor’d ever encountered, and he never would again.

Hank was special.

So why couldn’t he get a blowjob right?

Never mind all the successfully sexy endeavors they’d had before for months several, now. 

No. Connor was frantically focusing all his energy to the one time they’d ever had an argument; at least in the bedroom. 

Without a relationship, there was no strings attached to this. Hank remained exclusive with him, but there was nothing set in stone. The point of him was to be fucked, and Connor would be grateful as grateful could be for that, and run with it. 

He shouldn’t want more.

But he does.

“Alright.” Connor mouths with hardly any strength and leaves.

Hank watches him go with absolute regret in his heart.

He could pick this apart all night and analyze it until his brain falls out. He could go to the kitchen and drink the bottle to the bottom until he had an epiphany. Or he could lie back on his bed and do nothing because he shouldn’t want so much. 

He’d managed to meet his goal, and make Connor scream beautifully. All that was left was to roll over and sleep before his shift in 8 hours.

Of course Hank didn’t expect Connor to walk out with a smile on his face, but the next morning was far more grueling than he’d thought it’d be.

For the first time since he’d met him, Connor hadn’t spoken a word to him for three hours.

Three fuckin’ hours.

Hank thought that would be enough to scar him from ever making a joke during sexy times again. But if he thought that was going to be the worst part of it, then boy was he wrong.

After they were sent to question a witness near the the packaging docks downtown, Hank was coming away with more questions than answers. He had enough to make his head fuzzy without another idiot to muck up his lead. 

They were just leaving the scene when Connor, right out of the blue, thought it’d be a good idea to *apologize*. Not for just anything, but because Hank didn’t cum last night. 

He blurted it out over the roof of the car, the most surreal fucking thing, and then just hopped in and sat there like he hasn’t just announced that to the world. Hank didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t blatantly staring at him when he joined him in the driver’s seat. Connor didn’t seem perturbed- not by the staring. 

He just sat there with his hands in his lap and the most unreadable eyes for someone who clearly had a problem with being too blunt.

“What?” Hank finally barked. It wasn’t meant to be angry and having all the air knocked out of him kept it from sounding so.

“Connor, what the *fuck*?”

The other shrugged.

“No, no, you’re not doing that shit with me.” Hank turned the car on and took them straight to the nearest parking lot that wasn’t sketch central in this part of town.

Connor was quiet the whole time, watching people on the street pass by with their own muddled lives. He wondered how many of them had also just recently destroyed their favorite relationship.

Hank made Connor look at him when they stopped. He wasn’t taking them anywhere near the station until they’d cleated the air some, and Connor wasn’t inclined to just jump out and start walking.

Despite everything, Connor still wanted more.

“Why are you going off and apologizing all of a sudden?”

“Why is it such a big deal if I do?”

“‘Cause it’s not necessary.” And it was just teetering the edge of making sex again impossible due to awkward behavior. The right mix of worrying and self-doubt could ruin a relationship permanently. 

Especially the kind where you weren’t actually in a relationship, and everything was just for pleasure. There were no strings to this. There were no apologies and hard feelings, but the moment there were, this would all be gone.

Hank wanted this too much, he’d gotten too far.

Connor just gave a practiced shrug.

“I didn’t...you know...” Hank murmured, the pink in his ears nearly turning red.  
“So what? That’s not a big deal.”

“Then lets get back to work.”

“Not until you get over this. It’s only going to get worse.”

“Then maybe we should stop now.” Connor didn’t even know why he said it. 

That wasn’t what Hank wanted. He hated that idea, he wanted MORE- not nothing. He wanted Connor MORE.

“.....Is that what you want?” He whispered instead.

Connor looked perfectly upset to be in that car any longer.

He didn’t want that at all. Connor wanted something else entirely, but NOT that.

“I want...unconventional things.”

Hank shut his mouth. If he asked *what* kind of unconventional things, he could officially push this too far. If Connor didn’t want to tell him, if he just wanted to end this, asking would only make their post sex relationship something strangled. 

If he couldn’t even have Connor as a friend at least....

Connor looked over at him and seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say. You can’t really hide things like that from an android, but especially when it’s written all over your face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make this bigger than what it was.” He murmured, ignoring the bigger question.

Hank looked at him eye to eye.

“I don’t mind.” His voice wasn’t as reassuring as it could have been, but he hoped it could be the unspoken encouragement they needed to hear.

It probably wasn’t. It was too vague, and Connor still had that habit of denying things. The weirdest trait he could have picked up in his free will.

“You would if you knew.” 

Connor said it so softly- so sadly. 

Hank swallowed, heart pumping faster.

“No, I really wouldn’t mind.” 

Fuck, was that too pushy? Was Connor just trying to let him down gently and Hank wasn’t seeing it? If Connor wanted to leave, then he would leave anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to just *try*.

“You can...trust me, Connor.” 

Connor had to know that already... Hank trusted him with his life, and Connor had a serious malfunction if he didn’t know that by now.

Hank never meant to laugh at him in the first place. He never meant to make this weird. He didn’t even know what the fuck he did wrong still.

“I know that.” 

Somehow, that alone was enough to ease the ache in Hank’s chest. Connor knew that he could trust him- in fact he’d said it so readily. So sure.

All wasn’t lost. Hank still had him- maybe he could have more.

“But this isn’t....” Connor trailed off.

Hank leaned forward.

“What? Just tell me, baby.”

NO, NO, Fuck! This was serious, Hank! Don’t compare him to an infant for fuck’s sake!

Connor turned away to stare out the window while Hank mentally slapped himself.

Connor was oblivious as his own breakdown started to swarm his insides. He wasn’t about to bleed his ridiculous fantasies out on Hank while he had a flush on his face and was confined to a small car space. His modulators were near bursting already.

Just as Connor was about to open his mouth and drag this on for another 20 minutes with no real closure, Hank’s phone started vibrating with a very concerned Fowler on the other end that they had been offed at the docks.

Hank was ready to throw it out the window and continue the conversation, but he’d never get them back to where they were. Connor was excellent at shutting down the same way Hank was at shutting people out.

Was this a toxic relationship?

It’d have to be a relationship in the first place for that to be so.

When they got back, Hank wanted to scream his frustrations into one of the perps at the station. He somehow refrained.

The next few days were a collage of weird looks from Connor, Gavin taking way too many liberties with Hank’s patience, and several nights in a row without sex.

They’d never gone more than three before they were clawing at each other’s clothes to come off. Connor’s hands on Hank’s tattoos, gripping on his thighs. Rubbing down his front with smooth hands- sometimes his face. GOD help him, that was Hank’s favorite.

He thought he missed that the most, but the truth was much more disgusting than that. 

He missed coming inside Connor more than anything. He always wore a condom, unnecessary as it was, but they were just fuck buddies, after all. You don’t cum in your ‘just fuck buddy’ unless that’s part of the arrangement. For them, it wasn’t. They were just two guys getting their rocks off and slipping into separate beds at the end of the night. Who also happened to be working and living together. Nothing too serious.

But holding Connor down by his slender waist and filling the condom up inside that tiny hole was Hank’s favorite thing. The orgasm was one fuck of a benefit, but the real pleasure came from claiming him. 

Hank was a layer of latex away from pumping Connor full of himself and claiming him as his. He was so close to having more, and that drove him absolutely wild.

Yet now there was nothing.

On the eighth day of a sexless dry spell and awkward feelings when they went to work, which everyone had embarrassingly come to notice, Connor left early. Fowler approved it and Connor went without a word about it to Hank. He had the pleasure of finding out when Connor wasn’t around for his lunch break.

It hurt for some reason. There was no need to blow this too out of proportion, and yet his brain was determined to ever stray to the worst.

Why would Connor ever need to leave work early? They lived together, Hank was his ride everywhere. Connor, he thought, told him everything. Why hadn’t he his time?

Of course, he had ever right not to tell Hank something if he didn’t want to. It was just....

This whole thing was fucking with him and Hank didn’t think tonight would be one of those nights he stayed sober for too long. He had a bad feeling in his gut.

Naturally, as the universe often liked to do, Hank’s every fear was realized when he arrived home that evening. 

Connor was in the living room in his coat- his heaviest coat. Deviants could feel things like touch and heat and some aspects of pain now. His heaviest coat was only meant for his longest treks into the cold Michigan air. 

Hank’s stomach dropped- Connor was planning to leave for a *long* time.

His arms wrapped around himself and Hank realized he had never been in this place before- not with Connor. It wasn’t something he could have ever possibly imagined to be this painful. That dumb smile and puppy eyes weren’t at all what he’d imagined getting attached to. This was the most brutal punishment he’d ever had to endure.

Hank didn’t say anything as he threw his keys on the side table and hung his coat. They locked eyes and he waited to hear what the android needed to say. He at least owed Connor the dignity of listening to what had tipped this shaky relationship overboard. 

Perhaps he was being presumptuous thinking he’d even want to talk about it anymore, but he hoped Connor would.

The flicker of big doe eyes raking across him and then the floor was a clear indication there was something to be said, but.... Nothing that Connor honestly wanted to.

Hank seemed to get the message.

He turned to look at Sumo lying in the corner and walked over to pet him, giving Connor the option to just leave if he wanted. To avoid whatever painful thing he wanted to say but couldn’t.

Sumo turned his head into Hank’s palm. His tail thumped the damn mini mattress Connor had gone and bought him. On Hank’s budget. There was a lot of things he bought on Hank’s money during the time Connor was trying to prove a point about Hank’s alcohol expenses. Hank could finally admit that he *did* have better things to throw money at, but was the mini mattress necessary? 

Connor’s point was thoroughly proven, though, and he’d stopped wasting so much money on liquor. That would change again as soon as Connor left.

“I want to be honest with you, but I don’t know if I can.”

Was that a joke, because Hank wanted to laugh. Another part of him was so relieved he’d finally said something.

“Connor.” Hank scratched Sumo’s ear.  
“You can do whatever you want to....you’re free now.” 

“Thank you, Hank...but it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I doubt it’.” No, he didn’t. 

It was most likely the most complicated mess they’d ever dealt with in the limited time they’d known each other, and Hank had almost shot him once. 

No. What Hank had meant to say was:  
“It’s nothing you can’t tell me.”  
And that seemed to do *something* for him.

Connor sucked his bottom lip as he always did when he wasn’t sure about something.

A miracle suddenly unfolded before him when Hank turned to lock eyes again, and he saw the certain way Connor was looking at him. The air between them shifted, and Hank was shocked to find they were actually bordering a breakthrough of all things.

Connor was ready to talk shop.

“You won’t like me anymore after I tell you.” He sounded like he was resigning himself to some horrible fate.  
“You won’t think I’m attractive.” 

Did that really matter anymore if Connor was leaving? Why was he saying any of this?

Hank was silent, certain he’d be putting a foot into his grave if he attempted to read the situation now with so little understanding. 

He stood back from Sumo and made himself look as presentable as possible with his heart beating at 100 miles an hour. Which Connor would be able to see.

He knew he could trust Hank, so why was this so difficult? Hank seemed like he was really there to listen, so why wasn’t he just telling him?

If Connor didn’t say something soon, he’d be kicked out of his house for mixing Hank’s emotions around like a chemistry set.

It was now or nothing.

Hank’s eyes went wide when Connor put his hands on his coat zipper and pulled. He couldn’t see what was underneath very well where the heavy fabric pulled, but Connor wasn’t trying to show him. Yet. Instead, he pushed down the sweatpants (that were Hank’s) and shoed them away.

His coat went a little past his hips. Unzipped like this, it did very little to conceal the single, exposed piece of skin where it parted open a bit more over his crotch.

Hank had little time to process that he was staring straight at his most intimate piece when the coat slid to the floor.

Hank’s blood pressure was in a dangerous place.

“Fucking hell, Connor.” His jaw nearly hit the floor. Actually, he was pretty sure it did.  
“Holy *fucking* hell...”

Connor‘s face felt like it’d turned every color in the spectrum. Heat flooded his core at the thought of finally being seen, but much more prevalent than his thrill was his shame. 

This....obviously wasn’t ‘normal’, much less ‘popular’. At least not by mainstream. He recalled how difficult it was to find material on the matter, but that didn’t stop his brain from craving the few things it had.

“Did I ever mention the first thing I looked up on sexual education?” He murmured so softly, Hank misheard him entirely at first. It didn’t help he had a vision from the gods right in front of him to look at.

“It was porn. It wasn’t what I expected...well I’m sure it’s not what anyone would have expected.”

Hank followed the lines of a body he’d clearly not spent enough time admiring in bed. 

A button up shirt that cut off far above the waist tied into a thick knot at the center of Connor’s pump. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbow.

“I didn’t realize I’d found some classification of a kink until I’d watched a few videos with similar content.” He felt like a piece of priceless artwork the way he was being stared at.

“And by then....” Connor looked Hank up and down with equal fascination. His shoulders were so broad, Connor would have an easy time riding him with those to hold on to.

His hips though....they proved somewhat of a complication in the way of straddling.

“I was in too deep, then. My ideas about sex were all skewed to some extent, and...I didn’t quit watching the videos.”

Thank JESUS on the cross Connor’d never stop watching them.

Hank saw the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Artificial breathing, but fuck was it something to look at with that flat, toned stomach sticking out. He could sink his teeth into Connor’s abs and come back with a mouthful.

There was so. Much. Skin.

“I didn’t...bring it into our personal lives. I knew it wasn’t-“

He shifted his hips.

Hank watched Connor in essentially the equivalent of a ‘cowgirl’ pinup with the crotch of his 2 inch blue jean shorts cut out move his hips in the most sensual way possible for someone who was apparently abashed.

“I knew it wasn’t normal.”

“This is what you’ve been keeping from me?” Hank sounded like he’d been punched in the gut and slapped across he face. Hard. He looked like it, too.

Connor turned his attention to his feet, face a violent shade of blue.

It was then Hank noticed the shin high boots.

It was suddenly imperative Hank put any and every concern Connor had about sharing this to sleep forever.

“Connor, can you please tell me about this video on the way to the bedroom?”

‘Cause if Hank had to look at that vision of lust a minute longer without touching him somehow, Hank might actually cry.

Connor nodded, having the audacity to look uncertain about the whole thing while leading them towards the bedroom.

Hank caught a glance at the open backside in his shorts and immediately refused to be cordial a second longer.

Connor was pinned against the hallway wall before his brain could recognize Hank’s hands on his ass.

“Con, honey.” He breathed in his ear. Connor’s hands were trapped firmly in front of him, palms flat.

“How could you think you should keep this from me?” Honestly, HOW? 

Hank looked over the expanse of skin, his back virtually naked except what that skimpy little ‘shirt’ covered. 

“GOD you look so pretty, baby. You’re so fucking pretty.”

Hank nearly lost it completely when he heard a moan almost painfully raw rip from Connor’s throat.

He’d done little coaxing, and yet Connor had just opened up to every fantasy Hank had been chasing for months. Just like that.

A few heated words could insight some grinding out of Connor, maybe a leg wrapping around Hank’s hips. But, Hank had never said anything that’d made him cry like Hank had just pinched his clit between his thick fingers.

After fighting to get that airy voice to utter so much as a groan for so long, Hank wasn’t sure if he could handle it. His stamina wouldn’t survive those inches long shorts for more than an hour.

Little did he know it would go up from there.

“This...this isn’t all of, ah~”

Fuck, Hank’s pants were getting tight.

“All of it.” Connor struggled to finish. He pressed himself flat to the wall, the cool calmed his burning chassis.

“There’s more?” Hank knew all the fuss over the past week couldn’t be this simple. Of course there was more, but he couldn’t imagine what at this point with his mind already blown.

“Is it about the video?”

“Kin-kind of.” His cunny had nothing to grind on against the wall. It was frustrating.

“It’s- I liked- mmph!” Another whine. Hank had managed to get another sound out of him. He almost couldn’t believe this was real.

Hank ground his hands into the backs of Connor’s thighs, gently wringing them.

“How about you just show me what sets your circuits on fire, and you can use me to your hearts content.”

Hank waited to hear him say he ‘didn’t have a heart’ while rubbing his exposed ass in the meantime.

“Actually, I was hoping *you* might use me.” Was not what Hank was expecting, and not in that breathy voice.

He bristled, and pushed them both into the wall. Connor was stuck there with his mind going numb and his thighs beginning to shake.

He’d never felt so alive post deviancy. 

He had Hank right where he wanted him, which was digging his erection in to the pockets of his daisy dukes.

“Connor, fuck. I need you now. Can I have you?”

“Th-there’s one more thing!” 

“Anything, sugar. Anything.” And Hank could not express that enough.

“Well I...”

Hank stopped moving, but didn’t dare take his hands away. 

“I don’t want to surprise you. It doesn’t suit me very well.”

“Con, whatever it is, I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not gonna go anywhere.” His dick wouldn’t let him.

“I don’t” (want you to laugh at me) “want to kill the mood- so to speak.”

“Connor ANYTHING- literally anything. Just tell me....Cowboy.” He said the last word so slickly.

He felt Connor’s shoulders flex, then his ass push so far into his hard cock, he stumbled back a step. He pushed forward and held Connor’s arms against the wall, reasserting some control. They both knew how laughable that was as Hank was no match for android strength. But Connor didn’t try to pull away. He stayed right where he was, and Hank knew perfectly well they were both just indulging each other as Connor pretended to be at Hank’s ‘mercy’.

He didn’t know why that turned him on so fucking much. Was Connor burning that badly for Hank’s cock? That he’d be willing to play the soft little lamb for the goods in Hank’s jeans?

The larger man had every intention not to disappoint him.

“H-Hank! I-I don’t know if I can say it. It’s a little much.”

“But you want to, right?” Hank ran his hands over the plane of his stomach. The skin was soft and hard all at once, tight over the metal of his skeleton.

“I’ll tell you if it’s too much, but I *want* to do this.”

Connor ducked his head and trembled. Hank wanted to pet the ‘muscles’ in his back where his shoulders creased. Connor’s hands made fists against the wall, but still, he never pulled away.

If he told him, Hank was going to laugh at him, and Connor was going to sound stupid. 

He was going to obliterate the mood and squander any chance of having his crazy fantasy come true. 

Why did this have to be so hard? 

Hank’s cock made contact with the line of his ass once more, and Connor decided he could afford to spill his guts a little extra.

“I-I think I’d like...a little word play...” He said it like a question.

Hank sucked a breath in. There was no way this could get any hotter. It just wasn’t possible.

“I might also like to use an accent, maybe?” His voice broke that time, but Hank managed to catch the words.

He felt like he was about to stick it in the sexiest pinup doll in cowboy boots he’d never imagined existed (but thank fuck it was happening now), and here Connor was turning it into some role playing shit. As if Hank’s recently over charged sex drive could handle that. He’d never had the blood leave his brain and go south so fast as when Connor became his regular. But *this* was something entirely magical.

Holy shit.

“Yeah?” Hank wasn’t sure he could give him what he wanted without making a fool of himself, but he was too turned on and determined to reward Connor for throwing himself out there like that to not give it a good try.

“Yes.” Connor murmured. His shoulders pinched, head ducking further, yet he *still* did not pull away.

“Yes? That doesn’t sound like a very good impression to me.” Not the way Connor’d said it as if he’d been stuffed through the emotional wringer. Hank completely understood why this was so hard for him.

He was still having trouble asking to be fingered himself. Opening up to each other like this- it wasn’t just playing with some taboo kink. They trusted each other. This was all trust.

If he was worried Hank would laugh, he was not considering how both incredibly hot and sensual Connor turned the littlest thing by just existing.

Hank was about to make him aware of that right now.

“I’m, well...You first.” It was a request. 

Hank intended to indulge it.

He searched the deepest part of his chest and murmured into the back of Connor’s neck with the most convincing southern accent he could make.

“C’mon, honey. I’m not good at using my imagination.”

Connor felt his face heat up, much like the man at his back’s had.

Hank’s attempt at an accent was thicker than Connor expected, and then there was....that tone.

Fuck, it was deep- like a rumbling in his throat. Like throwing a rock in the waters of a dark cave, and watching it ripple. Feeling the vibrations on every surface rolling through you.

That’s what was happening to Connor-particularly his empty little hole. 

He felt bluer than he’d ever been, eyes wide and fingers curling against the wall to bite his nails in each palm.

He realized they were too far down this rabbit hole for him to just glaze over it later. If Hank happened to be into this, it’d be on the ‘menu’ forever, and Connor would never live it down.

He could already see breakfast time with Hank making cowboy puns and throwing around southern slur. 

He didn’t think he could take it, and by that, he meant his resolve not to fuck Hank couldn’t take it.

Then the bigger man patted his flank and murmured in a voice slow like molasses for Connor to, “Take this award winning hide to the bedroom before I carry it there.”

And Connor’s face flushed of all color. It reignited his blush with a vengeance, but how could it not?

Hank was unfortunately gaining back his confidence, and beginning to replace any residual embarrassment with the desire to fuck.

Connor didn’t have the courage to fulfill his orders. His shame kept him rooted with his fists on the wall.

It earned him a pair of big hands, calloused from taking care of fields and animals- if Connor allowed his ridiculous fantasy to play- and was suddenly hoisted over Hank’s shoulder.

He yelled, of course, but not in outrage, and was carried as promised into the bedroom.

He was face down in Hank’s mattress before he could even pretend to try and protest.

“Look’it you.” Hank growled. “You spread easy as honey.”

“Hank, I-I’m going to reboot.”

“You’ve been spending too much time in the city. You need to remember your place.” His hand slid away from Connor’s neck, past his shorts where he’d like to rip that hole open more. He pushed Connor over to his side, and Hank immediately ducked down to cradle him close. 

Connor greedily accepted the warmth, and the place to bury his face in Hank’s chest.

“I know just how to remind you.” He said it so close to his ear that Connor shuddered. 

He could just stay there forever, hiding in the fabric of Hank’s shirt- which he’d very much like to yank off of him and even the playing field a touch.

The safety net disappeared rather quickly, and without Connor’s approval. He wasn’t given a chance to gather his courage back up before Hank was pulling away and leaving him exposed again.

“Up.” 

Connor complied with shaky legs.

Like almost every preconstruction he’d had in this fantasy, Hank sat back on the bed against the headboard and spread his thighs. Wide.

Connor’s own flexed on instinct, just imaging them straddling Hank’s lap. Evidently, that’s exactly where Hank wanted him- which thank GOD.

“C’mon, honey.” Hank pulled his cock out of his jeans for the full display.

Connor felt his stomach drop and a flush of warmth fill the space between his legs. Lubricant directed to his main sex components began to file out from between his lips in a thin, slick line.

Hank’s eyes trained very carefully on Connor’s exposed pussy made it immediately noticeable.

Fuck did they look good like that. Hank’s proud cock dribbling pre-ejaculate like Connor’s personal ice cream treat, and his android with strings of glistening cum coating the bedspread.

“C’mon,” Hank repeated with a bit more urgency. The sight of such a hot thing so wet for him was starting to make Hank a less sensible man.  
“Come saddle up.”

Connor crawled over with a moan in his mouth.

“Hank.” He stuttered out like the heat of Georgia summer was swirling in his belly. Waiting for him was a thick, sturdy cock jutting from Hank’s trousers and making his mouth water.

The bigger man took him with open arms when Connor practically threw himself across Hank’s hips.

Big paws clutched his criminally slender waist and forced him to grind his heated core right over Hank’s balls. 

The scratchy fabric of his jeans caught the hood of Connor’s clit, trapping the sensitive nub against the roughness. Connor buckled, hands scrambling to find something solid to hold onto, and settled on Hank’s shoulders. If Hank puffed himself up a bit more to seem bigger, he definitely wasn’t indulging how turned on it had him to throw around his size. 

The noises Connor was making was a lullaby of soft sobs and broken moans, and they’d done little else than rub their parts together. Yet, Hank had had no idea these shallow, throaty cries would be thousand times more blood boiling then what he’d been searching for. Screams that could shake the windows suddenly fell short to the glory of Connor breathlessly trying to verbalize his arousal. 

Mewls and meek moans of Hank’s name instantly became he most utterly debauched Connor had ever sounded, and Hank was certain beyond a doubt this actually was. Connor was in heaven, and Hank had put him there.

These shudders and shakes were for *him*. These pleas and cries were *his* doing.

Hank groaned out his own excitement right into Connor’s collarbone. His voice choked out Connor’s considerably, and yet Hank felt no great loss that he could no longer hear the softer sounds he emitted. The android’s face twisted in a painful little ‘o’ was perfectly enough to feed Hank’s lust, tenfold.

“Yeah, darlin’. Let’s get you-“ he lifted Connor’s hips above his cock.

He knew that he could take what was coming next.

“Right here.”

And Hank helped him sink right down to the hilt.

Connor‘s hands slid and made fists in Hank’s shirt. 

Now *that* was one of those screams Hank had longed to hear. 

He patted Connor’s ass, and failed to stifle a grin.

“Shh. Don’t get all riled up on me. Rowdy boys get taught a lesson.”

Connor didn’t bother indulging that, whether he was joking with him again or not. He only had one thing on his mind.

“H-Hank~” his legs shook, his chest rose and fell.

“I know, I know. I’ve got you.” 

Connor found himself bouncing with a little help from Hank’s hands under his thighs.

It was...it was incredible. It was...so, SO fucking good. 

Hank filled every inch of Connor’s sopping hole, and hit each little sweet spot like a bow and arrow to their mark. He plunged up into Connor’s tight little channel in a way that made his head spin and vertigo damn near take over. Each stroke was hard, each thrust had the android bouncing up an extra inch before crashing back down.

The friction against Hank’s jeans was nearly too much to take, but the base of his cunny getting hammered down over a solid cock was brutal enough to keep his mind off of it. His opening felt like it had every inch that could be stretched pounded out to shape around Hank’s cock. Like it was being crafted into something just for Hank to use- only he would fit this cunny this perfectly.

He clenched, tightened, and pulled, but the dick fucking him up and open allowed for no give- unlike Connor’s hole which was forced to comply. Forced to take all the pushing and pumping and *give in* to him.

“~O-Oh GOD, Hank~ OH!~”

“Yeah, that’s it, cowboy. I’m gonna fuck that honey pot ‘til it’s spillin’ over.”

“OH! HANK! HANK!”

“You’ll be a hot little mess when I’m done with ya.”

Connor already was. 

His shorts were ruined, despite the large hole these things had been made for. He’d managed to get his slick all over them. He wouldn’t be surprised if the zipper was stuck after this.

“C’mon.” Hank murmured reverently.

Connor looked so fucking good when his head dipped back in pleasure. His body arched like a bow each time, and tonight, Hank couldn’t get enough of Connor’s naked belly sticking out of that short, little crop top.

“Part those lips for me, sugar. I’ve got some business to attend.”

He’d meant for Connor to spread himself with his fingers, instead the android had spread his legs until they were too wide for him to be of use to Hank, leaving the bigger man to do all the actual pumping and fucking that would need to be done.

But he could manage Connor’s metal weight, especially with the knowledge the best sex of their non-relationship-relationship was on the verge of happening.

When it got to this point where Connor acted without any of his sensibilities, Hank was given the honor of knowing he’d fucked a billion dollar machine into a full meltdown. That was reward enough, sometimes.

Hank took a hand out from under Connor’s thigh, and pushed his thumb into his clit. It forced Hank‘s movements to be a bit more labored without the extra support, hips pumping into their prize with a frantic-ness. But he wouldn’t be stopped. 

Connor‘s hands lost some of their skin, digging his palms into Hank’s shoulders. He was nearly knocked off his lap by the force many times.

Slowly, Hank’s thumb started to move. It pushed Connor’s hard, little nub around, slipping over the little bulge in a zig-zag pattern before changing without warning.

Connor howled, sinking claw marks under Hank’s shirt for the first time. Another ‘first’ to add to his list.

On reflex, Hank’s thrusting grew faster. His hips slapped up into freckled flesh. His thumb stroking almost punishingly, securing his clit to the thick pad of calloused skin. 

He drew a ‘star’ shape right in the center, dragging over the sensitive button with such tenderness.

Connor’d never sobbed like that before. It was downright pitiful sounding.

Hank absolutely lavished in it. If all his grueling efforts to make Connor scream was going to ignite a fire this astronomically massive, he would wallow through months of uncertainty and self-doubt *happily* again. This was well worth the payoff.

A faint jingling filled the space between their moans, surprising Hank into a slower rhythm. The blow of his hips crashing into Connor’s ass softened, as he gave the deviant a curious look.

“What was that?”

“Ah~ Nothing.”

“I heard something weird.” 

“Hank~ I didn’t hear anything. Hank~”

Hank wasn’t doing too good a job if Connor could still talk right now. 

And there was no fucking way he hadn’t heard that just now.

Hank stopped rubbing his clit- the effect immediate.

“Hank! Hank, Hank, *please*!” 

“Calm down.” He hushed and pushed him from his lap. 

Connor scrambled to stay close, but Hank managed to unsheathe himself from his tight, wet confines. It was torture, but Hank knew he’d heard something, and Connor was being a bit too distracting.

A little suspicious.

He pushed Connor on his back and looked him over while the android made his desperate pleas to continue. Hank didn’t see anything on him that looked like it belonged to the noise, and there wasn’t too much Connor had on that was left to the imagination. Hank marveled at the bare, freckled skin. 

That’s when he noticed his new favorite oddity. One dark freckle below Connor’s navel, skewed just slightly to the right. He decided it was definitely the strangest feature Cyberlife had given him. Who on GOD’s earth was going to notice *that*?

Jokes on them, of course, because here was Hank.

He didn’t waste time chomping the freckle between white, gapped teeth. Connor nearly kicked him in the stomach with a scream. 

Hank grinned like the devil. It was a nice payback for the many times Connor had assaulted his mouth with his tongue, as he lavished over the gap between his teeth. He didn’t know why anyone would be into the little split, but Connor was some level of feral for it.

Connor’s freckle was Hank’s tooth gap. 

It was to be cherished and fussed over. A small part of him all to himself. This speckled skin was entirely Connor, and Hank was wild for it. He’d forgotten they were still role playing for a second when his foot hit the pillows behind them and the sound of the jingling lilted.

He stopped his tirade of kisses and looked up at Connor. The Android was a suffering mess, writhing and moaning and very much not aware Hank had heard the noise again.

His eyes snapped open as he quickly realized what was happening when Hank pulled away from him and started searching through the pillows.

“Hank wait!”

“What for?” He snuck his hand under Connor’s cushion and stilled.

“H-Hank....” Connor’s eyes went wide as the magic of the moment totally vanished.

Hank became unreadable, feeling up the belt and holsters Connor had hidden under the pillow.

“It was- it was a last minute decision. I realized they weren’t really appropriate for the occasion and I- Well, I went to put them away, but I heard you unlocking the door.” Connor was talking a mile a minute.

Grief plagued his features.

“Hank I panicked! We don’t have to use them! It was a shot in the dark-“ he winced at his word choice.

Hank didn’t say anything. He carefully pulled the belt out to look at it properly.

Connor regretted ever getting into THIS part of the videos. This was wildly inappropriate, as he’d said, given their relationship. Or rather, Hank’s relationship to his gun.

This wasn’t something you played around with. 

Why didn’t Connor consider the backlash of this sooner? 

The belt buckle had a silver stallion carved onto its front, the source of the airy jingling. On each side of the hips was a holster with a revolver. 

Connor’s mouth dried up as he watched Hank stare. He held it limply, just looking at it, and if Connor could only go back in time, then JESUS, he WOULD.

“Hank.” Connor drew his knees against his chest, moving to sit. Suddenly he felt so naked in the worst way.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Hank, I-“

“This is...actually pretty wild, Con.” 

Connor couldn’t tell if that was rejection, disgust, or surprise on Hank’s face. He’d never seen the look before, but he could make a n educated guess.

“I know it’s...” Connor couldn’t finish that without the words ‘really just every level of fucked up as fucked up can get’ coming to mind. How do you say that without reminding the offended that you had been *in to* that? That you *wanted* that fucked up thing?

It was seriously time to consider if his cranial wiring was deteriorating- or rather, if he was a sick fuck.

Connor swallowed down whatever remained of his courage as Hank fixed him with a stare. He didn’t want to speak another word as anything else would be quite tasteless at the moment.

“Was I supposed to wear this? Or you?”

Connor’s light whirled through every color and then all of them at once before answering. He would have liked to keep up that vow of silence, right now.

“Me...I-I didn’t think it through.”

“You, huh?”

Hank took out a revolver and fondled it in his hand. Connor could never get over how big his fingers were, much less their size once inside him. But now wasn’t the time to ogle.

“And these...were you gonna use them on me?”

Connor’s voice came out sounding stretched thin. He was hoping if these ever came out he wouldn’t have to explain them. This was so much more painful than he could have realized.

“No... Me.”

“You?” Hank thumbed the hammer piece.  
“How?”

Connor blushed down to his chest. His lips parted, but no words came out.

A spark of such intensity Connor’d never seen suddenly burst to full flame in those steely, blue eyes.

“These loaded?” His voice dropped so many octaves- Connor found himself being paralyzed to hear Hank using the accent again. 

They were back to playing, which Connor couldn’t have constructed in his wildest fantasies could be possible after such a thing. This had to have been the final straw for them, hadn’t it?

“No.” Connor answered. He’d never load a gun they were about to handle intimately. The thought of being accidentally shot was too far from his comfort zone. 

Pretending otherwise, though....

Hank wrapped a hand around Connor’s ankle and pulled. 

He wanted to break character for a moment, tell Connor how incredibly fucked up and wild this was going to get. He wasn’t sure he knew what to do in this situation with zero experience and a whole lot of history with gun violence- but then he looked down at Connor, flipped over on his back for him, belly on full display and all wide, scared eyes. 

Hank didn’t think another thing about it. He sort of had to make himself, but if he didn’t bury it 6 stories deep, he wouldn’t be able to keep up his courage. The part of him that wanted to see where this went and watch Connor moaning his heart out ran deeper. He wanted *that* more than he wanted to be worried.

Hank’s thumb pulled the hammer all the way back. The gun cocked with an audible ‘click’ and Connor’s eyes flickered up. 

He stared at Hank with his mouth wide and failing to form a sentence. His eyes focused on the gun’s handle looking so small in Hank’s hand. It was surreal entirely to be thrown this far down the proverbial rabbit hole with a willing participant. Much less the slightly more vanilla than most Hank Anderson with a bit of mental baggage.

Connor wanted to ask if Hank really wanted to go through with this- to assure him that they could skip this part completely. Connor was happy with just getting his clit rubbed over in a pair of cowboy boots. They didn’t have to get ‘weird’ for him to cum screaming.

Connor’s brain stalled out.

Or maybe they did have to get weird.

Hank mistook Connor’s hundred-yard-stare at the gun for something else -something heated. The reality was that Connor had just realized something rather horrid.

He swallowed, thirium pump pulsing in his throat. He didn’t register that Hank was moving him, so deep in his thoughts.

Did Hank think he didn’t enjoy this? Did Hank believe he *had* to do this?

When was the last time Connor’d displayed his appreciation? Had he ever acted like such a wanton whore before? Maybe that was harsh, but now he was angry at himself. He didn’t want to say something stupid before, didn’t want to give all of this away. Yet he had had nothing to fear and had wasted so much time getting here.

He’d never seen this kind of primal behavior in Hank before. The man was pawing and grinding over Connor’s body in a way that made him wonder if he’d ever gotten Hank this hot before.

This was Connor’s kink, this was Connor’s dirty infatuation, and here Hank was scrambling around to get them off like this was all he needed to stay alive. Was Connor not behaving appropriately in their alone time? Was he leaving something to be desired for Hank? This was his fault. 

Connor needed him to know. Hank needed to hear how much Connor wanted this- not THIS, but HIM. Everything else was just extra. 

All he needed was Hank Anderson. 

Hank needed to know-

Hank pushed the barrel of the gun right between his lips the moment Connor opened his mouth.

His breath hitched, ‘heart’ rate climbing the way Connor’d climbed Hank’s chest moments ago.

“Get it wet, darlin.” Hank’s eyes glinted dangerously. 

Connor half feared for his 4 months of sentience life.

“Hmmf?!” He began to rise from the bed, desperate to tell Hank what he now knew, when he was pushed by his collar back into the bed and *held*.

His legs kicked on instinct, but Hank filled the space between his knees, opening him. Connor was perfectly pinned there with a gun against his tongue and his head dipped back in the sheets.

It didn’t hurt, but the feeling wasn’t easily categorized. 

Connor hadn’t the courage to do this on himself before now. By the time he’d put on the fitted, crotchless shorts, he felt sexy enough at the thought of Hank finding him like that that’d he’d let his little dick think for him. He couldn’t have prepared for this new sensation without having done it alone first, and now he was incredibly regretful he hadn’t. 

That was a bad call.

“That’s it, boy.” Hank pulled the gun out and slid it slower back in. 

The smooth metal glossed over his tongue without any resistance. Hank’s hand trembled at the sight, causing the barrel to shift to one side of Connor’s mouth and clack against his teeth. 

This was just....FUCK.

There was so much heat in Connor’s eyes. And his his belly, but Hank couldn’t see that.

He struggled to keep them open as the barrel picked up speed and thrust deeper. He gagged, the sensors screaming and begging; begging for Hank to thrust it faster. 

Connor didn’t dare voice this, however. 

The guns weren’t loaded, but they were real. He’d bought them and held them religiously every night since. Just marveling at the texture and weight. *Especially* the weight. 

They were a pair, each one emblemed with the manufacturer’s name, Colt, in raised steel. The ridges smoothed over Connor’s tongue and caught on every oral analyzer, metal rising and falling along the wet ‘muscles’ in Connor’s mouth. Both were void of gun oil, and there was nothing there to taste. Nothing to prevent him from enjoying Hank’s cum later.

His legs spread wide, not having realized they’d been doing so over the course of his mouth fucking.

Hank had noticed. He forced Connor’s jaw up with the tilt of the barrel. The hard metal pinched his upper lip and stabbed his tongue, but Connor could only mewed like a kitten. His legs starting to shake.

His eyes tried to find Hank’s again, but the new angle forced him to stare at the ceiling. He was about to garble around the weapon if Hank’s pause was indication of a problem when the gun was suddenly pulled from his lips.

He could only blink for a second before his empty jowls were replaced with the other gun. It was dry of his saliva and caused a line of hard friction against his lip going in. 

Connor bucked.

Then he screamed.

Hank sank the spit lubed barrel -of all places- deep in Connor’s ass.

His hands tore at Hank’s shirt, searching for something to ground him.

“Mm.” Hank hummed in displeasure. He didn’t like Connor having so much room to move. Especially not if it was for ripping his shirt. 

Satisfied it’d take well, Hank had the audacity to leave the gun in Connor’s ass to reach for the belt it’d came with.

Connor was aware of very little outside the hard things that were filling him. The revolver was hoisted from his mouth once more as Hank’s hands began to tie him. 

He crossed Connor’s wrists together, high over his head, and shuffled the belt to hold them steady. It latched perfectly with a little ‘clink’ as Connor’s panic reignited.

His legs were hauled over Hank’s hips by much more experienced hands, and Connor was left to shudder pathetically at his ‘mercy’. 

“Now, where were we, darlin?”

“~Ah! H-Hank~”

“Right!” Hank gripped the handle between Connor’s cheeks, the androids face flushing violently.

“I was cleaning my gun up! Got to care for these things anytime I shoot ‘em.” 

Hank *pushed*- Connor cried.

“I don’t have any gun oil on me, but this will do fine.”

‘This’ being the beads of lubricant spilling from Connor’s ass.

It was a nightmare and a dream come true. Connor didn’t know if he could hold his cum in for another 30 seconds with all these feelings swimming in his head, filling his mechanical guts.

This was so, *SO* much more than he could have asked for. 

Hank was so much more than he could have been allowed to ask for.

Look at what he was giving him- this was all Connor’s.

The android’s lashes fluttered.

“There we go.” Hank’s voice was slow again, resuming its honey like twang. He twisted the gun, hand rotating side to side like he was screwing in a lightbulb.

Connor jerked, kicked, pleaded for Hank to do...something? His brain had overloaded a while ago, and who knew what he needed so desperately to say at this point.

“Niiice and easy.” Hank’s hand bent downward just a bit, forcing the end of the gun up against a precariously placed pressure plate in Connor’s channel.

“AHH!~ HANK!” Connor’s eyes snapped open and he finally looked at him. His eyes looked watery and far away, like he was watching the stars under a night sky in a field somewhere. There was warmth and reverence and wonder. 

“Hank, I w-won’t make it!” 

Connor choked when the tip of a familiar, fat cock brushed against his cunny.

Hank smiled down. He’d also been watching Connor in utter amazement. Slack jaw and in awe at how much Connor could take from him.

There was no end it seemed. 

He looked so beautiful finally screaming for Hank, and he now felt he’d been right to pursue this. This was better than anything and everything they’d had together. This below him was a face of praise and affection, and it was all centered at Hank. 

Hank made Connor want him. Connor wanted Hank. He did this.

“Hank, I NEED you- I NEED YOU!”

He was close. His hole was clenching where the muscles looked for something to hold onto. They wanted something to pull inside them.

“Yeah.” He reaches down for his dick standing proudly.

“I got you, cowboy.”

That beloved, fat cock slipped inside the only hole that hadn’t been properly made full that night. It forced the lining of Connor’s walls to part for him, no matter the strain of his size. The android seized around the gun in his ass and the cock in his cunt and shook from a place deep in his core.

“Hnnk-k~” Connor’s teeth ground together in a small attempt to stabilize himself. 

With his hands bound, there was nothing to hold. He couldn’t ground himself by his legs as Hank lay there between them and kept them from finding purchase on his larger frame.

He had to take it- all of Hank and all of the gun, stroking both his holes. Connor did gladly, taking more than he could have ever asked for for the first time they’d been together.

“Now stay still while I take care of business. Wouldn’t want this gun goin’ off, would we?”

“No.” Connor sobbed, but his tone was unmistakable.

Hank’s hips stuttered. His grip on the gun nearly slipping.

“No sir, we don’t.”

Hank didn’t think he was going to be brave enough to join in on the accent, despite Connor being the one having a thing for it. 

But he sure as all shit did it fucking justice.

Connor honestly surprised them both, clearly making an effort to indulge them. It wasn’t fair for Hank to carry all the burden of getting him off, for one thing. 

For another....Connor hadn’t lied about being into it. He wasn’t having to force himself *too* much to go along.

“I- I just want you~” He tacked on after a moment of silence like it wasn’t the single most erotic thing Hank had heard all night.

That *fucking* accent...

He straightened back a bit, lifting a leg over his shoulder, and began spearing the gun into Connor’s ass with lethal force.

Connor wailed, nails digging into the synthetic skin on his palms. Hank kept him anchored to the spot as their hearts hammered out of their chests with every thrust of Hank’s hand and hips. His cock split Connor and made him scream and arch, and Hank had never cum so fast in his life.

Not even the first time he experimented with that Debbie girl in ninth grade.

Connor didn’t seem to mind. He unloaded a quart of cum into the gun’s cylinder, and creamed himself over Hank’s cock. In a rare moment of overwhelmingly high hormones, their lips met as Hank roared into his mouth. His cum spilling over the deepest part of Connor’s walls.

He tried to utter some senseless pun in relation to their theme, but his fucked out brain poorly constructed it.

“I don’t whinny, Hank.” 

So he’d apperently said something about stables and breaking backs and horses. He didn’t know what, but Hank was lost in the moment.

“But I do own a pair of stirrups and blinders...”

Hank’s bleary eyes flew open at whatever *that* was supposed to fucking mean. He very much intended to find out after he invited Connor to share his bed tonight.


End file.
